A Message from God
by Oonagh
Summary: Roslin, Starbuck,Tigh et al struggle to survive on Cylon occupied New Caprica. And try to answer the questions of why the Cylons came and what they want now they're here? Sequel, of a sort, to 'The Better Part of Valour'.
1. Chapter 1

A Message from God

By Oonagh

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's Note: During the last part of LDYB2 I kept asking myself the question: Why have the Cylons landed, why did they decide to occupy and not merely to obliterate? I didn't buy the idea of peaceful reconciliation of differences for a minute but they must have had_ some_ reason. This idea played around in my mind for ages and eventually it developed a life of its own and became this story. I know nothing about what is in store for season three so I'm sure this is totally AU but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Please let me know what you think as there is more written and I'll post it if people like this first part. A very long note, I know. Sorry.

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Laura Roslin spent the night after the Cylon invasion huddled in her school tent surrounded by terrified children. Uncertain about what was happening she did not feel comfortable about trying to get them home. She did not feel comfortable about the entire situation. Why had the Cylons landed, why had they not just attacked from space? Why was everyone still alive? What had happened to the Battlestars and the fleet?

For the first time in a long time Roslin regretted being out of the political loop. After Baltar's election she had deliberately distanced herself from that world, unable to watch that odious little man destroy all her hard work. But now, as she sat in the dark, scared and confused, she reflected that maybe she should have kept a closer eye on things, should have installed some informers in Baltar's staff. At least then she would know what was going on.

The night passed slowly, filled with strange noises and bright lights, but the following day started early. Just after dawn Roslin was awakened from a light doze by a loud voice, obviously being transmitted over some sort of PA system.

"Attention residents of New Caprica. Attention residents of New Caprica. President Baltar has an announcement. Please give it your full attention." Roslin recognised Gaeta, despite the noticeable quaver in the young man's voice. She wondered if, right now, he was regretting his unremitting support of Baltar. After a brief pause the PA system kicked in again, this time broadcasting the voice of the President of the Colonies.

"Good Morning. I have a brief statement to make. As of yesterday at 1700 hours the government of New Caprica is in the hands of the…the Cylons. But, be assured, they are not here to harm but to help. It is their wish to put the recent conflict behind us and to this end it has been decided that I will remain President, advised by a council of Cylons. As the Cylons are unarguably our evolutionary superiors this will serve only to better our life on New Caprica. However, I must add a caveat to this welcome promise. I am sure that many among you are unsure of the Cylons' intentions and I must ask that you do not allow any such feelings to lead you to take any rash actions that may inhibit the peaceful communion of our two races. Such rash acts will be severely punished for the good of everyone. Subversion will not be tolerated, can not be tolerated if we wish to live in peace and harmony. We understand that these changes will require a lot of adjustments and to make things easier a night time curfew is now in effect. All citizens must remain in their accommodations after sunset. It is anticipated that these restrictions will only last a few days, to provide time for adjustment and to prevent ill-advised actions by any misguided members of our community. Thank-You kindly for your attention. Any further communications that become necessary will be broad cast in the same fashion. Good Day."

Roslin sat stunned and horrified. She had never liked Baltar, had always distrusted him but this…this was worse than she had ever expected, even from him. She read between the lines of his speech and what she saw was not pretty. As a history teacher she knew only too well what would happen next. First martial law then prison camps, interrogations, disappearances, and, knowing the Cylons, some kind of Eugenics programme. Roslin couldn't stop the tears that began to stream down her face as the future of humanity appeared in front of her as clearly as if she was already living it. One of the youngest children reached up and wiped the tears from her face.

"Don't cry, miss. Please don't cry." The sound of his worried voice brought Roslin crashing back to the here and now and she instantly felt ashamed at having frightened the children. She wiped the tears away and plastered a smile on her face.

"Right, who's ready to go home?" The children all leapt to their feet and grabbed their coats. The older ones looked slightly concerned still and Roslin hastened to reassure them, to make up for the damage her tears had done.

"Don't worry, everybody. You heard the President, everything is fine. The war is over." The youngest children paid her no heed as they struggled in to coats and gloves but the older ones nodded, happy once more. Except for one. Sally Jenkins walked over to Roslin and looked up with serious brown eyes.

"Are the Cylons our friends now? Are they really here to help us?" Roslin looked down at her pupil and smiled, her heart breaking. For the first time in her life Laura Roslin lied to a child.

"Yes, honey. You don't need to worry." Sally's face remained serious, but then Roslin had never seen the girl smile. Roslin turned away, unable to meet those serious, wary eyes any longer. She bustled the children out of the school tent and herded them all to their respective homes, handing them over to grateful, frantic parents. Sally and five others she returned to the orphanage tent. Sally grasped her hand and refused to let go.

"Please don't leave me here, Miss Roslin. I'm afraid." Roslin forced a gentle smile.

"Honey, you heard the president. Everything's…"

"I think the president is a liar. I think the Cylons are bad. Only bad people would kill my mom and dad." Roslin looked down and had to fight to hold back tears. She couldn't think of anything to say to that. In the end she simply pried her hand free of Sally's and passed the child over to Sven Krause, one of the carers. She stood and watched as he walked the young girl into the tent, talking soothingly to her the whole time. Sally looked back once and Roslin had to turn away from the pleading in her face.

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Roslin spent the rest of the day walking around the settlement trying to ease the fears of the residents. It was hard to do, however, when she shared most of their fears herself. By late afternoon she had made her way to almost every tent and was starting to worry that she had seen none of Galactica's crew. During her time as president she had had enough experience with the military to know how they thought and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that they would be holed up somewhere planning something. She also knew that whatever it was they were planning would get people killed. Baltar was right about one thing: now was not the time for rash actions. Now was the time for lying low, for watching and listening. But that wasn't how the military mind thought – they'd been hit and they'd want to hit back. Roslin returned to her tent at sundown and prayed that nobody would do anything before she had a chance to speak to them, before she had a chance to explain to them why, this time, discretion was the better part of valour.

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Starbuck crept through the darkness, moving from shadow to shadow to avoid detection. She cursed softly as she tripped on a tent peg. This was hell. Worse than hell. She'd returned to her tent after the dramatic arrival of the Cylons only to find that one of them had gotten there before her. Leoben had been sitting on a chair beside Anders's bed chatting companionably.

Starbuck had acted before she thought, drawing her illegal, military issue pistol and shooting the Cylon twice in the head before he had even moved. Then she had begun cursing, using words even she usually avoided. She knew she had created a major problem for herself, one of these days she would start thinking before she acted.

She had dragged a confused Anders out of bed and had hauled him to Tigh's tent, knowing that Tigh could be trusted to give her husband an alibi, to swear the younger man had been with him all afternoon.

Then she had run into the forest, spending an uncomfortable night up a tree. The following morning she had listened to Baltar's speech which had carried clearly through the early morning air. She had cursed almost the whole way through it, seeing it for what is was – the surrender speech of a defeated power. She had spent the rest of the day exploring the region around the settlement, something she hadn't bothered doing before.

She had remembered Cally mentioning some caves that the young mechanic had helped survey and, at around noon, Starbuck had found them. A quick look around found them to be extensive and seemingly stable. She had decided that they would do for her purposes. Anders would be as comfortable here as anywhere else and it would serve as an adequate base for the resistance that she had promised the chief, especially if Cally's other findings were correct.

Starbuck had waited for nightfall before she headed back to the settlement. That had seemed like a good idea at the time. But now, in the dark, she was starting to question the wisdom of her decision. In some ways she stood out even more than she would have during the day when at least there would have been crowds to hide herself in. Creeping around in the dark like this, she had realised, made her very presence suspicious. Starbuck ruefully reflected that she had a lot to learn about guerrilla warfare. She was tempted to return to the forest and postpone the retrieval of Anders and the meeting with Tigh until the following day but in the end she decided that she had come so far she might as well continue.

Stopping briefly to get her bearings Starbuck was startled to hear sobs coming from inside one of the closest tents. She began to move quietly away but then she realised that the sounds were coming from a child and that no-one appeared to be making any attempt at comfort. Quickly Starbuck traced the sounds to a large tent which she noticed, with shock, was the one used by the former president to house her school. She hesitated momentarily before entering, nervous about what awaited her in a tent that should have been deserted. As soon as she entered she saw a small figure sitting huddled over one of the desks. She moved quickly over to the child and spoke gently.

"Honey, what are you doing here? You should be at home." The child – Starbuck realised it was a girl – jumped and began to sob harder, knocking over her chair in her haste to get away. Starbuck raised a hand and grabbed the girl's arm. Noise wasn't good.

"Hush. I'm not going to hurt you. You need to be quiet, we don't want to be found here." The sobbing continued and Starbuck began to panic. They were going to be found for sure if this noise kept up.

"Be quiet, please, honey." Then Starbuck realised that this child must be one of Roslin's pupils and that maybe she could use that fact.

"Hey, kid, are you looking for Miss Roslin? I'm her friend you know. My name's Starbuck. I knew Miss Roslin when we were all living in space." The sobs decreased in volume and Starbuck sensed that she had the child's attention.

"Yeah, I used to work for her. I was a pilot on the _Galactica_. Do you know the _Galactica_? It's a really big ship with lots of people on it. We were all friends of the President, uh, Miss Roslin." The sobs stopped entirely and the little girl spoke, louder than Starbuck would have liked.

"Will you take me to Miss Roslin? I thought she'd be here."

"You came here looking for her?"

"Yes. I told her I didn't want to be left there. I _knew _the Cylons were bad."

"You were right about that, kiddo. But I can't take you to Roslin. I have things I need to do. You'll have to…"

"I want to go to Miss Roslin! I won't go with you. I want to go to Miss Roslin!" Starbuck had had very little to do with children in her life but she recognised the warning signs of a tantrum.

"Okay, Okay. Miss Roslin's tent isn't far from here. I'll take you. But you need to be absolutely silent. No talking. Or the Cylons will find us and then we'll be in trouble. Okay?"

"Okay." Starbuck nodded and took the girl's hand. Together they crept to the tent door. Starbuck peeped out to make sure the coast was clear before slipping out into the night, keeping the now silent young girl close to her side.


	2. Chapter 2

A Message From God

By Oonagh

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

Author's Note: This chapter's very short but it acts as a lead in to the main part of the story. So please bear with me. And, as always, I enjoy reviews.

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Sleep had not come easily to Laura Roslin that night despite the fact that she was exhausted. Every time she closed her eyes she had seen ranks of cylons clank their way down New Caprica's main street. The memory made her shudder. But no more so than her predictions of the future. The things she had seen that morning had seemed so real and Roslin prayed that they were just pictures painted by an overactive imagination and not prophetic visions. Since coming off Chamalla she had not had any supernatural experiences and that gave her hope. Just her imagination, it had to be. Eventually exhaustion dragged her down into a restless sleep, haunted by visions of death and fire.

The sound of someone moving around in her tent woke her and, for the first time, Roslin regretted not taking the pistol Adama had tried to press on her when she moved down to the planet. She tensed her body, ready to move as fast as she could, knowing that running was her only hope.

"Roslin. Laura, are you awake?" Roslin's whole body sagged with relief and then tensed again almost immediately. She sat up quickly.

"Captain Thrace, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in your tent?"

"Probably not a good idea, since the Cylons are looking for me."

"Looking for you? Why?"

"I killed a Leoben model yesterday."

"What? But why haven't I heard? I was everywhere today and no-one mentioned it. And there didn't appear to be any search being conducted."

"That doesn't make sense. I killed one of their own; the toasters should be tearing the place apart looking for me."

"Well they're not, Captain."

"Frack me. What's…"

"You shouldn't say that. It's a bad word." Roslin started and peered more closely at Starbuck who reached back and pulled a small figure forward.

"Sally? What are you doing here? Why aren't you back at home?"

"I found her in the school tent. She said she was looking for you. That's why I'm here, the kid wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Sally, did you come out in the dark by yourself?" Roslin's voice was stern and Starbuck could imagine what she would be like in the classroom.

"It wasn't my fault, Miss. The Cylons made me. They came tonight to take us away. I heard them tell Sven they had found families for all of us. Sven thought they were lying and he tried to stop them. The blonde lady cylon shot him in the head. Then Julia grabbed my hand and made me run out the back door. She told me to run to the school and wait for her. Then she went back inside. I did what she told me, Miss Roslin, honest, but she didn't come. Starbuck did instead and she said she was your friend and I knew I'd be safe with you." Roslin and Starbuck listened to Sally's story in silence, horror writ large on their faces.

"It's started already." Roslin's quiet words held dull resignation and that frightened Starbuck more than the words themselves. But she could think of nothing to say to make things better. She'd never been very good with words. Sally crept over to Roslin and climbed up on her knee and the three sat in silence for a long time.

Suddenly the silence was blown apart by a huge explosion and the sound of gunfire.

"Colonel Tigh." Both of the women spoke at once, knowing instinctively what had happened. Starbuck grinned.

"I hope we hit them where it really hurt."

"People are going to die for this." Roslin's words bounced off Starbuck.

"I'm sure Tigh was careful with his plan. As long as he was sober. He won't want to needlessly throw people away – he doesn't have enough of them as it is."

"That's not what I meant. Tomorrow, the Cylons will select some people at random and execute them. Probably in public. They'll say it is to discourage rebellion and promote peace and they'll explain that for every Cylon that is destroyed by a human they will execute five or ten or a hundred civilians. That's the way these things work, Captain."

"How can you possibly know that?"

"Because I've studied history, I know how we've acted in the past and the Cylons are our creation, made in our image." Starbuck shook her head but whether in denial of Roslin's prediction or of the idea that the Cylons were anything like humans Roslin wasn't sure. Not that it mattered. Denial wouldn't make either fact less true.


	3. Chapter 3

A Message from God

By Oonagh

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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Dawn the next day proved Roslin wrong. Once again New Caprica was awakened by the voice of President Baltar on the PA. He spoke about loyalty, friendship and pacifism. Forgiveness and reconciliation were mentioned several times. Baltar reiterated that it was expected by the coalition council that the people continue their lives as normal. Nothing was said of the events of the night before. No mention was made of punishment or retribution. Roslin sat in her tent and listened to the speech, puzzled. There was something very wrong here. Then she laughed at herself – she should be glad that no-one would die, that no-one would pay the price for Tigh's impetuousness.

She readied herself for school, breathing a brief prayer that Captain Thrace and Sally had made it safely back to wherever the Captain's hiding place was. They had left as soon as the furore had died down the night before, both the adults convinced that New Caprica was not safe either for Starbuck or Sally. Starbuck had been reluctant to leave without her husband but she had finally seen that she had no choice – they could not risk sneaking around in the dark any more than absolutely necessary. Before she had agreed to leave with Sally, however, Starbuck had made Roslin promise that she would deliver a message to Sam Anders, telling him that his wife had not abandoned him, that she would come for him. The message bothered Roslin – now was not the time for Starbuck to be distracted by emotion, they were going to need her tactical brilliance if they were to beat the cylons. But he couldn't find it in her heart to refuse the Captain's request. And, besides, it wouldn't make a difference, Starbuck was going to be distracted no matter whether Roslin delivered the message or not.

And so she left her tent earlier than usual and walked to the Tighs' tent. She didn't expect the Colonel to be there – not after last night – and she _really_ hoped that Ellen had left with her husband. There were some things that Laura Roslin was not equipped to deal with first thing in the morning and Ellen Tigh topped that list. She knocked on the canvas door of the tent but got no response.

"Knock, knock." Roslin always felt vaguely ridiculous saying that but sometimes it was necessary – canvas didn't make much noise when it was knocked upon. She waited a moment but still got no response and so she lifted the flap and slipped inside. She kept her hands in view, just in case.

"Hello. Is anyone here? It's Laura Roslin. Colonel? Ellen?" Still no response. Roslin lowered her hands and conducted a quick search of the two-room tent. It was empty. She closed her eyes in relief. It looked as though Anders had left with Tigh. Hopefully, they had met up with Captain Thrace. At least then Starbuck's attention wouldn't be divided. And, hopefully, she could persuade Tigh to go easy, to wait and watch before launching any more attacks. Roslin was pretty certain that she'd managed to convince Starbuck that that was the best course of action, that now was not the best time to shoot first and ask questions later. Roslin whispered another prayer to the gods, this time of thanks, and headed toward the school tent. It was time to begin her day.

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Roslin stood in the doorway to the school tent for almost an hour that morning welcoming her children, taking them from their nervous, anxious parents, offering reassurance and trying to radiate a calm she didn't feel. Eventually, the parents all left, obeying Baltar's command to continue with their lives as though there had been no change. Roslin entered the tent and smiled at Maya. The young woman placed Isis in her cradle and returned the smile nervously. Neither of them knew quite what to do now – it was one thing to be ordered to continue as normal but quite another to do it, especially with a room full of frightened children looking at them expectantly. Roslin clapped her hands.

"Everybody find your seats. Quickly now." The children obeyed quickly. Roslin waited until everybody was seated before speaking again.

"I think we have a birthday today. Isn't that right, Freddy?" A small blonde boy at the front of the classroom nodded.

"Okay, everybody, you know what to do." Maya took her cue and began singing the traditional Colonial birthday greeting. The children all joined in enthusiastically, seemingly reassured by such a familiar routine. The song finished off with a resounding cheer and Roslin smiled. Until she saw the look of terror on Maya's face. Roslin quickly turned to face the tent door. What she saw there froze her heart.

Three identical blonde women stood there, clutching the hands of the five orphans who had been left behind by Sally the previous night. The children began whispering, more excited than afraid as they didn't understand who – what – these women were but were merely astonished at seeing three women who looked absolutely identical. Roslin, however, was speechless. She had never expected to see those children again. And yet there they stood, apparently unharmed. One of the cylons stepped forward, bringing with her a small boy and an older girl.

"I apologise for our tardiness, Miss Roslin. It took longer than we had anticipated to ready the children." Roslin stared blankly for a moment and then answered automatically.

"That's quite okay." The cylon women smiled in unison, amused at something.

"I see no-one has told of the changes in living arrangements for your orphan children. It is unacceptable that these children have no families – we have rectified that. The children will be living with us from now on."

"Oh." Roslin's brain kicked in and she looked around, feigning puzzlement.

"Is Sally Jenkins not with you?" Two of the three cylon women exchanged glances and then one of them spoke.

"Sally is unwell today. I hope to have her back in class in a few days, after one of our doctors has had a chance to examine her." Roslin kept her face blank.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Please, tell her that we all hope she feels better soon."

"Certainly, I'm sure she will be glad to know that you are thinking of her." Roslin nodded and forced a smile on to her face. The cylons released the hands of their young charges and turned in sync to leave the tent. One of them stopped at the door and turned back to Roslin.

"You seem to have adjusted very well to recent changes. I am surprised, considering your former position." Roslin could think of nothing to say to that but, thankfully, the cylon did not wait for a response. She merely turned again and followed the other two outside. Roslin stood staring after them. That had been the most surreal conversation of her life and she was certain now that there was something going on, something more than occupation for the sake of subjugation. Maya's voice broke into her confused reverie.

"Are you all right?" Roslin looked round to answer, only to find that Maya was talking to the recently arrived children who were nodding.

"They didn't hurt you?" The children shook their heads and then the youngest spoke up.

"I got new shoes. See?" He lifted his foot in the air and Maya made a show of looking.

"I see, Michael. They're very nice."

"They're red." Roslin, too, looked at his shoes and then spoke.

"Yes, honey, they are. Now why don't you all go find your seats and we'll start our history lesson." As the children obeyed Maya and Roslin exchanged looks and Roslin could see that the other woman was as confused as she was. Something was definitely going on.


	4. Chapter 4

A Message from God

By Oonagh

Disclaimer: I'm sure by now you've figured out I don't own the show.

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Roslin moved through the rest of the day on autopilot, unable to drag her thoughts away from her conversation with the blonde cylons. Despite their politeness she could not help but feel threatened. She returned straight home after school even though she was nervous about the idea of being alone. The parting comment of the third cylon had unnerved her and she was very much afraid that it had been a test and that she had failed. What that meant she wasn't yet sure but she felt sure that it boded no good for her.

It was possible that she was in as much danger here as Starbuck and Sally had been. She supposed that should not come as much of a shock – she had, after all, led humanity in their flight from, and fight against, the cylons. She had even ordered the destruction of several cylon models. But in the last few days everything had happened so quickly, been so overwhelming, that she had given little thought to herself. Now, she was beginning to realise that that may have been a mistake.

Roslin stepped into her tent cautiously, not knowing what to expect. It was empty. Relief surged through her but it was short lived. Just because they weren't here waiting didn't mean they weren't coming. Refusing to allow her fear to overwhelm her, Roslin set about making dinner. She ate leisurely, trying to relax. After dinner she marked the children's work, but she didn't take the usual pleasure in it. Then she sat down with a book – a parting gift from Adama. She had to force herself to read and she took in very little of the story.

As soon as the sun set fully she went to bed as usual. That was one of the things she had found most difficult to adjust to on New Caprica. Roslin enjoyed working and reading late into the night – she had never needed much sleep – but the shortage of fuel on New Caprica meant that there was very little to spare for lighting and so, mostly, people retired very early. To bed at sunset and up at sunrise had become the norm on New Caprica. And Roslin attributed the sudden explosion in pregnancies to the long, dull nights. Roslin tossed and turned wishing, not for the first time, that she had someone beside her to alleviate her boredom and, tonight, to listen to her fears. And so it was with thoughts of loneliness and missed opportunities that Roslin drifted off to sleep.

She was wakened dramatically only a few hours later. The sound of someone knocking over the chair and pile of glasses that she had placed in her doorway before retiring caused her to jump to her feet and grab the table leg she had left by her bed. It was a poor weapon, she knew, and it gave her no hope of defeating the intruder. But it made her feel better. And at least she would go down fighting. That last thought sounded so like Adama that in other circumstances she would have laughed at herself. She raised the table leg and stood still in the dark.

"Roslin, what was that?" Even whispering Starbuck sounded angry. Roslin lowered her arms and sank back down on to her bed. That young woman was going to be the death of her.

"Captain Thrace, what are you doing here?" Roslin could hear Starbuck crunching over broken glass as she made her way across the tent.

"We need to talk. And, seriously, what the frack was that?"

"My alarm."

"You expecting someone?"

"I hope not. I had a rather unsettling conversation with some cylons today. Why are you really here? It's not safe."

"To talk, Madame President. And it's worth the risk."

"About what? And I am no longer president, Captain."

"That's what I'm here to talk about. I met up with Tigh and everyone else last night. We've set up a base and we intend to resist as long as we can." Roslin nodded. She had expected no less.

"But we want to do it smart. Tigh says that that explosion last night killed at least eight skinjobs and more than forty metal toasters. But they did nothing today. They didn't even mention it, let alone start hunting for us or killing civilians in revenge. And we can't figure out why. So Tigh sent me to get you. He says this whole thing stinks of politics so we need a politician."

"Captain Thrace, I'm not sure…" Starbuck ignored her.

"Also, we want to set up an alternate government. We need the support of the people if we're going to get rid of the toasters. And they've never really liked the military. They _do_ like you."

"They voted me out, Captain."

"And look what happened. They know you, they know you did a good job and kept them safe. They'd support you. So we're gonna make you president again."

"No! No. I will not break the law. I will not overthrow the legal government." Starbuck grinned widely.

"Well, I win that bet! But you don't have to. Gaeta did the research today. The Articles of Colonisation give the people the right to take up arms and remove a government that has acted against the Articles. Or something like that. And since that fracker Baltar _surrendered_ to an enemy force and is collaborating with them then we have a duty to bring him down."

"I still don't think…"

"Roslin, you're the best hope we have. If you don't come then that will leave Tigh in charge. And we both know he's not up to it, even when he's sober." Roslin's mind flitted back to the time Adama had spent unconscious after his shooting. Tigh had been a disaster then and Roslin had no reason to suppose that this time would be any different. And then she thought of the blonde cylon and her oh-so-subtle threat. It was very possible that she would be safer with the resistance and she could definitely do more good with them than she could if she were dead or imprisoned. And she knew Starbuck was right. Baltar had to be brought down, she knew that better than anyone, knew that he'd been a collaborator even before the destruction of the colonies.

"Fine, Captain Thrace. I'll come with you. But I'll want to talk with Colonel Tigh before I finally agree." Starbuck grinned again.

"Another bet won! I told him you'd not agree without seeing him." Roslin stood and, as quickly and quietly as she could in the dark, packed a bag with her few belongings. Then the two women moved out into the night, silently slipping into the shadows.

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Roslin was greeted warmly when she and Starbuck arrived at the cave system. Even Tigh seemed happy to see her. Roslin watched the Colonel closely for the first few minutes and was pleased that he seemed to be entirely sober. The same could not be said of his wife, who hung on his arm and cast openly flirtatious glances at a terrified looking pilot Roslin was unfamiliar with. It looked as though some things never changed.

It didn't take long for some kind of order to reassert itself. Roslin, Starbuck, Tigh, Tyrol and Gaeta moved into a smaller cave and sat down around a rickety table. Sally followed, refusing to be separated from Roslin. As soon as everybody was sitting, Sally clambered on to Roslin's knee and settled down to sleep.

"I take it since you're here you've agreed?"

"Provisionally, Colonel Tigh. I have a few concerns. I will not allow myself to become a powerless figurehead for your resistance. If I am to be president then I will _be_ president, with all that entails. Are we agreed on that?" Tigh nodded unhesitatingly and, suddenly, Roslin knew what was going on. Saul Tigh _knew_ he was unsuited to leadership, he'd learned from his earlier mistakes. That was why he'd had her brought here. That realisation made Roslin feel a lot better about his offer.

"Then I agree to your proposal, Colonel." Tigh nodded again.

"Okay. Knowing how hot you are on all that religious palaver, I figured you'd insist on a priest to swear you in. Carlos!" Tigh's voice rose on the last word and a young man entered in response in response to the yell. He was dressed in religious robes, carried a scroll and looked terrified. Everyone stood, Starbuck taking a sleeping Sally from Roslin, and the former president reswore her vows while Chief Tyrol recorded the ceremony for posterity. This time round Roslin spoke the words without quavering, without hesitating. This time round she was replacing a man she loathed, not a man she had – at least for a while – loved. It made things easier.

After the ceremony was completed Gaeta took the opportunity to fill her in on how things stood with Baltar's government. He spoke quickly as it was important that he be back in New Caprica by dawn. Roslin was very impressed by the young man's courage in deciding to remain with Baltar and yet assist the resistance at the same time. Everybody in the room knew that things would not go well for him if he was discovered. And yet he showed no visible fear as he described the happenings of the last few days. When he told her that Adama and the fleet had jumped away just prior to the arrival of the cylons Roslin almost wept with relief. They weren't all dead. _He_ wasn't dead. That put to rest one of her greatest fears of the last two days: that Adama was dead, that she'd lost him, that humanity had lost their only hope of salvation.

The rest of what Gaeta had to say brought her little comfort, however. The cylons had two basestars in orbit and over two hundred raiders. And, worse still, they had obviously replaced their resurrection ship – two of the skinjobs Tigh had blown up last night were already back. It looked like the cylons had put the last year to good use.

Gaeta drew diagrams of the cylon deployment, blueprints for the resistance to use in planning attacks. Two hours before sun up he left, with the best wishes of everybody and strict instructions not to make contact before the next pre-arranged date, unless it was a real emergency. The less contact he had with the resistance, the safer he'd be. As he left the cave, he directed one last comment at Roslin.

"I wish I'd let you fix the election, Madame President."

"Right now, so do I." Roslin softened her words with a smile and wished she could tell the young man that he'd done the right thing in sticking to his principles. Maybe if things hadn't turned out the way they had…

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Things quickly settled into a routine in the resistance camp. Most of their time and effort went into procuring the supplies necessary for survival. Medicines were the first things gathered, with Doc Cottle leading a raid on the cylon supply depot on Roslin's first full night with the resistance. Seeing him dressed in combat gear and professionally checking over his weapons shocked Roslin. She had always _known_ that he was military but before that night she had never once thought of him as a soldier. Tigh led a second team on a decoy mission to make sure that attention was diverted from Cottle's target. Both men politely dismissed Roslin's concern at the fact that the cylons even had a supply of human medicines, focussed as they were on tactical questions.

The two missions went without a hitch, meeting only minimal opposition. And that became the norm. Tigh and Starbuck would spend hours planning missions to attack the cylons where they were most sensitive. The plans would be carried out flawlessly, the objective would be achieved, and yet it seemed to have no impact on the cylons. It almost appeared as if they didn't even notice. Consequently, frustration in the resistance camp grew with each passing day, alleviated only by an event which took place on Roslin's second day there.

The young technician who'd been assigned the task of setting up and maintaining a communications system came running into the cave where Roslin sat with Tigh, Tyrol and Thrace, panting and speaking disjointedly in his excitement.

"They're here. They're here. I talked to them. Isn't that…"

"Who's here, specialist?" Tigh spoke calmly, more professional than Roslin had ever seen him.

"The fleet. I made contact with a raptor. I spoke to Dualla."

"You spoke to Dualla? In a Raptor?"

"Yes, Sir. Only for twenty-seven seconds before cylon jamming kicked in. But I told her that we're still alive."

"Good job, specialist. But if Dualla was in a Raptor then the fleet is not back. You made contact with a recon mission. The Old Man must have sent them back to see what the situation is." The young specialist's face fell, his dreams of imminent rescue quashed. Starbuck grinned at him.

"It's still good news, specialist. We know the fleet's still okay and now they know we're still alive. The Old Man will come back. He'll have a plan." The faith in Starbuck's voice reassured the specialist and he smiled again.

"Yes, Sir."

The news of the radio contact spread through the resistance like wildfire and the relief it brought was palpable. But as days passed the relief faded and frustration and doubt set in. Where was Adama? Why weren't the cylons acting as they were supposed to? How could the resistance win the war if the cylons refused to fight back? These were the main topics of conversation in the resistance camps for the first two weeks that Roslin was there. And then things got even worse.


	5. Chapter 5

A Message from God 5

By Oonagh

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Roslin's third week in the resistance caves started well, with the birth of Cally's baby. She had a healthy boy who was named Michael Jonathon after his two grandfathers. The whole camp was excited. This birth – this baby – represented to them the future hope of humanity. His existence proved that mankind could survive and multiply even in the greatest of adversity. The choice of name served to reinvigorate the resistance fighters - a child with the name of two men who would never see or hold or love their grandson, who had had that chance ripped from them by the cylons. The message was clear – never forget what the cylons are or what they did; do not look into their beautiful faces and see humanity.

Unfortunately Tyrol and Cally were preaching to the choir. The resistance didn't need the reminder – their hatred and thirst for vengeance were as strong as they could be. And the rest of New Caprica refused to hear the message. As far as they were concerned the only changes that had come about since the arrival of the cylons had been for the good. There was more food, more fuel, more medicine. The cylons hat set up clinics offering free medical care. The colonists had initially been wary of this, listening to the resistance warnings of eugenics, tests, and slow-acting poisons.

But disease had made many of the colonists desperate – human doctors had nothing to offer them and they had reached the point where they had nothing to lose. And so, slowly, the colonists came to use the clinics more and more. Mothers brought their children in for free vaccinations. Pregnant women benefited from pre-natal checks. Those who had been suffering from malnutrition or difficult-to-kill viruses quickly regained strength. And everybody watched carefully. Nothing happened. Even the resistance had to admit that the offer of medical assistance seemed genuine. But that didn't mean they liked it. They became more concerned than ever that the cylons had some well-hidden agenda.

They told the people this repeatedly but, as time passed, fewer and fewer people were willing to listen. And even those few began to ignore the resistance when, in the middle of the third week, the cylons announced – via Baltar's regular morning broadcast – that they were beginning an intensive building programme. That very morning the centurions marched out en masse and began felling trees. The resistance was initially worried that this 'building programme' was merely a cover designed to hide the cylons' intention to hunt them down. But days passed and the cylons did nothing but chop down trees and strip them of their branches.

On the fourth day, building began. Log cabins were constructed by the centurions – with the help of human work parties – at an astonishing speed. The colonists were moved into these cabins gradually, starting with those families with young children. Once again the cylons were making the lives of the colonists immeasurably better and support for the resistance faded almost to nothing.

It became difficult for Tigh's people to get assistance of any type. By the fifth week Gaeta had become their sole source of intelligence and he only helped because he was convinced that Roslin was right when she declared that the cylons were up to something. And because he was desperate to make up for his earlier mistake.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The fourth day of the fifth week of the occupation marked Sally Jenkins' birthday. She was eight. Roslin insisted that a party be thrown, despite the lack of supplies, and nobody really opposed the idea. Everyone in the resistance knew Sally, seeing her almost as a mascot. Like baby Michael she represented the future and, looking into Sally's face, it was possible to imagine a future full of innocence and hope.

It had taken Sally several days to begin to recover from the things she had seen in the orphanage tent and even now she often had nightmares from which she woke screaming. But despite this she remained a cute, charming, gentle child. She never smiled or laughed but everybody understood and accepted this. The girl had lost a lot in her short lifetime and it was no wonder that it had affected her.

The job of caring for Sally had been taking by Roslin. For the first few days after her arrival at the caves the child had refused to be separated from her. Sally had at quietly beside her during planning sessions, playing with the slightly battered doll that on of the pilots had acquired for her. As the adults planned bombings and assassinations the young girl sat silently and clumsily braided its hair.

There was no one else suitable to look after the child. Most of the adults spent a lot of their time away from the camp, carrying out raids, scrounging for supplies or gathering intelligence. Cally, Roslin and Ellen were the only three who spent most of their time in the caves. Cally, heavily pregnant, was in no position to care for a traumatised child. And Ellen…well no one would wish Ellen on a child, even when she was sober. That left Roslin and after a while the newly reinstated president found she did not mind. She and Sally fell into a routine and she discovered that the child was very little bother, as long as Roslin didn't leave her for long. Sally continued to come to the strategy sessions, sitting in the corner playing, entirely unaware of what was being discussed.

The birthday party was thrown in the early evening, before that night's raiding parties went out. Everyone attended, with the exception of those on guard duty, at the order of the President. Roslin was convinced that a party would be good for everyone. And she was right. For a few hours the resistance managed to forget where they were, push away the fears of what the future held for them. For a few hours laughter and joy bounced off the walls of the caves. For a few hours everybody was happy. And Sally revelled in being the centre of attention.

Gaeta arrived just as the party starting to come to and end and he brought reality with him in the form of his weekly update.

"Nothing has changed, Madam President. I have attended every council meeting, just as you asked. Nothing of importance is ever discussed. The only two cylons ever present are Boomer – actual Boomer, the one who shot the Old Man. And one of the blonde models. Number six, they are. Only this one is special. I overheard one of the number threes calling her Caprica Six. She actually has a name, her own…"

"Caprica Six, are you sure about that?"

"Yes, Madam President."

"Tell me, Mr. Gaeta, does she spend any time alone with Baltar?"

"Yes. They meet alone several times a week. How did you know that?"

"That's not important right now. Tell me what you know about that model. And about Boomer."

"I don't know much. They both attend every meeting. It was their idea to offer free medicine, to build the houses. They propose and Baltar signs the paperwork. I hate to say it, but they seem genuine in their desire to help us. But sometimes, I see the other cylons look at them with…pity is the closest word I can think of. I think that they are as much out of the loop as we are." Roslin had listened to Gaeta with her gaze on Sally who was busy dressing baby Michael in a little hat she had made for him herself. Cally stood beside them, a small smile on her face. But at Gaeta's last words her head jerked up.

"Out of the loop? What do you mean?"

"I think they're being used, Madam President."

"To do what?"

"I don't know. To lull us into a false sense of security, maybe. To disguise the cylons' true intentions."

"This is very interesting news, Mr. Gaeta. Dissension in enemy ranks is always good news, as I'm sure Colonel Tigh would say if her were here. But it doesn't get us any closer to finding out just why the cylons are really here."

"No, Madam President, it doesn't. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You are doing a great job. And I need you to keep doing it. Keep your eyes and ears open. Find out what you can."

"Yes, Madam President." Gaeta turned to leave, clutching a piece of the cake that Cally had scraped together. Roslin returned her gaze to the birthday girl, her heart heavy.

"Come on, Sally. Time for bed."

"Aww, Miss Roslin. It's my birthday, can't I stay up late?"

"You're already up late. Give Michael back to his mommy and come along." Sally gave and exaggerated pout but she did what she was told, giving the baby a big kiss before she handed him back. Then she walked over to Roslin and took her hand. Roslin squeezed it.

"Good girl. Did you have fun tonight?"

"Oh, yes. It was the best party ever. I got _millions_ of presents and baby Michael really liked the hat we made for him. It was a bit big but Cally says he'll grow into in no time. Will he?"

"I'm sure he will. Babies grow very fast."

"How fast?" Roslin barked a laugh.

"I guess that depends on the baby."

"That's not an answer, Miss Roslin!" Sally sounded so offended that Roslin suppressed a second laugh.

"There are some questions that have no answers. And that's one of them. Every baby grows at a different speed. That's just the way babies are."

"That doesn't really help."

"Help what?" Sally looked up at her, confused and then she spoke, changing the subject.

"Can I ask you a question, Miss Roslin?"

"Of course." Roslin was surprised she'd asked. Sometimes it seemed as though most of her time was spent answering Sally's questions but usually the child didn't ask permission first.

"Are you my mommy, now?" Roslin stopped walking in shock

"Why do you ask that, honey?" They had reached the curtained off entrance to their cave now and Roslin ushered Sally inside.

"Because you do all the things mommies are supposed to do. You wash my hair. You tell me stories before I go to bed. You shout at me when I'm bad. You make my breakfast. You call me 'honey'. Mommy things."

"I guess I do, don't I? Would you like me to be your mommy?"

"Uh huh. I used to have a mommy and it was nice. So are you?" Roslin looked down into the serious brown eyes that were staring intently at her and found that she couldn't say no. Not to a little girl who had already known such hurt. _See, Adama, you're not the only wuss._

"Yes, honey."

"For ever and ever? Even after we leave here? After the Old Man comes and kicks some cylon ass?"

"For ever. And it's Admiral Adama. And please don't use the a-word again, it's not polite."

"See, you're such a mommy." Roslin laughed.

"So can I stop calling you Miss Roslin now? I'll call you Mama Laura instead."

"Mama Laura?"

"Well, I called my old mommy 'mama'. So I can't call you that, you can't both have the same name. Otherwise in heaven you'll not know which one I'm talking to. See?"

"I see. And I think Mama Laura sounds good. Now off to bed, it's late."

"Yes, Mama Laura." Roslin smiled. _It does sound good._ Sally clambered into her blankets. Roslin sat down beside her and read the next chapter of the children's book that Starbuck had managed to scrounge from the school tent. When she finished she marked her place and then leaned over and kissed her daughter's forehead.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Roslin sat with Sally for a while, to make sure she was really asleep and to guard against the nightmares that often came shortly after the child drifted off. Eventually, satisfied that all was well, Roslin lifted the radio that she and Sally used to communicate and headed back to the main hall to help clear up. Being president didn't get her out of doing her share of the chores around the resistance camp. There were too few people and too much work to allow anybody to be treated differently. Roslin had found that she enjoyed it. It gave her time to allow her mind to drift, to daydream and ponder on what-ifs, to plan for the future, to imagine what Earth would be like when they found it. And it gave her a chance to get to know people that she would otherwise never have met. She listened to them talk, heard their concerns, their dreams, their hopes and she had realised that this time spent living in caves, cheek-by-jowl with her people, would make her a better President. She had vowed to herself that she would not forget the lessons she learned here – that way at least some good could maybe come out of this damnable situation. Stepping into the main cave Roslin was startled to find it spotless. Starbuck, the only person left, raised a glass in greeting.

"I didn't realise I was gone that long."

"You weren't, Madam President. It didn't take long to clear up. The mess wasn't as bad as you would've thought. Would you like a drink, Madam President?"

"Please, Captain Thrace."

"I really wish you'd call me Starbuck. When I hear 'Captain Thrace' I always think I'm in trouble. I keep waiting for you to throw me in the brig." Roslin smiled as she took the drink Starbuck held out. She and the young pilot were as different as two women could be and yet during the last five weeks she'd discovered that she enjoyed Starbuck's company. Under other circumstances, Roslin thought, they could have been friends.

"Starbuck it is, then. I wouldn't want our best pilot getting all paranoid." Starbuck grinned at her, that open, honest grin that shocked Roslin every time she saw it. Maybe that was why she enjoyed Starbuck's company so much – the young woman was the very antithesis of the politicians she had grown so used to spending time with. It was nice to see genuine feeling on a person's face. The grin didn't last though.

"I waited for you, Madam President. We need to talk." Roslin raised an eyebrow.

"About what?" Starbuck dropped her eyes.

"Did you see Tigh tonight?" Roslin winced.

"He seemed a little…unsteady. He was drinking wasn't he?" Starbuck nodded.

"He was drinking a lot. Even by his standards." Roslin shook her head in exasperation.

"Damn it. He was doing so well." Starbuck shrugged.

"I guess the rumours are true."

"Rumours?"

"Apparently, Tigh came back from that mission last night a bit earlier than expected. He found Ellen fracking one of the deckhands in their cot. Word is he went nuts. Tyrol says his man'll be limping for weeks." Roslin closed her eyes.

"That damn woman. I wish Adama had left her where he found her. Or better yet, thrown her out with the trash. I swear that woman couldn't do more damage if she _was_ a cylon." Starbuck grinned again, amused at the president's little rant.

"Yeah. But Ellen's not really our problem. You know what Tigh's like when he's drinking."

"Maybe tonight was just a one off." Starbuck shook her head.

"It never is with Tigh. It's fracking amazing he's lasted this long. Um, excuse the language." It had just occurred to Starbuck that it probably wasn't a good idea to be quite so informal around the President, no matter how comfortable she felt in the older woman's presence. Roslin waved her apology away.

"All we can do is keep a close watch on him. He's been bringing all his plans to me, just like we agreed. If I see anything questionable in any of them I'll veto them. Your job is to make sure that he doesn't put any plans into action without presenting them to me first. I don't want to wake up one morning and discover that he's brought the cylons to our door by doing something stupid. Can you handle that?"

"Yes, Madam President." Roslin sighed.

"And if you're that way inclined, Starbuck, maybe you could say a few prayers. I have a feeling that we're going to need all the help we can get."


	6. Chapter 6

I know this is kind of breaking the rules but I could think of no other way to let people know what's going on with this story.

I recently started a new job and I have to undergo 1 month of residential training. I didn't realise until I got there that I would have absolutely no internet access whatsoever. Even this little paragraph is being posted by someone else.

This means that although the story is still being written (it's almost finished actually) I will probably not be able to post anything for another three weeks. I apologise for this and thank you for your patience. Please don't give up on the story because of the delay.

I promise I will resume posting as soon as possible and ask that until then you bear with me.

Thank-you,

Oonagh


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